Awkward Misconceptions
by LanisFanFiction
Summary: A mixup with Draco’s Valentine’s surprise leads Harry to believe they may soon be hearing pitterpatter of tiny feet…


**TITLE: Awkward Misconceptions**

**AUTHOR: **Lani (aka LanisFanFiction)

**RATING: **R

**SUMMARY: **A mix-up with Draco's Valentine's surprise leads Harry to believe they may soon be hearing pitter-patter of tiny feet…

**WARNINGS: **Adult language, sexual content, minor wanking, mentions of mpreg (no actual mpreg), mentions of exhibitionism

**WORDS: **5,313

**NOTES:** Seeing as Easter falls on my birthday, I will be pretty scarce on Sunday, so I am posting my Easter present to my readers now :) It's an R rated one-shot, so no sex scene this time, but there is plenty of sexual innuendoes ;) Also, it has nothing to do with Easter, but its my Easter gift all the same!

**A big HAPPY EASTER to all my readers! **

**As chocolate is a little hard to send via the net, I offer you all this fic instead! **

**Hope the Easter Bunny is good to you!**

**Many thanks to Jadzia for Beta'ing, and CeeCee for her readthrough!**

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. JKR owns everything.**

Draco Malfoy glared balefully at the teenage witch standing behind the counter smacking loudly on a large piece of chewing gum that was flopping disgustingly around in her mouth. "Read it back to me," he demanded.

The girl rolled her eyes, blew a bubble in Draco's face and started reading in a bored tone. "_To Harry, my one and only_." She glanced up at him and sniggered. "_Two years ago today you made me the happiest man on Earth when you told me you loved me_." The girl stopped reading and screwed up her nose. "You know, man, this is the most puke-worthy thing I've ever read. Are you sure this isn't a joke? I mean, Harry Potter? Come on! You still have time to pull out and not have it published. It would really save your reputation."

"I don't believe I am paying you for your opinion," Draco sneered. "I realise your brain may be severely underdeveloped from your overuse of hairspray and makeup, but if you do not do as I have requested, I will ensure that the only job you manage to hold down is a flobberworm gutter in Knockturn Alley!"

The girl's eyes widened and she started reading again quickly. "_Today, I love you more than I ever thought possible. You are my world and always will be. I love you, my sweetheart_! _Will you marry me?_" She finished reading and frowned at him. "This is our Valentine's Day issue. I'll have to check with my manager if this is allowed. You don't mention Valentine's Day anywhere."

Draco's silvery eyes narrowed dangerously. "How about this for a mention? If that advert doesn't get published in today's Daily Prophet issue, your boyfriend will be feeding you your _Valentine's Day_ chocolates…" he slammed his cheque with the Malfoy family crest on the corner onto the counter, "through a _straw_!" He spun on his heel and stalked to the door of the newspaper office, almost crashing into a pregnant woman on his way out.

Hermione Granger handed her best friend a steaming cup of coffee before she sank down on the couch next to him. "So, what Valentine's plans have you got with Draco, Harry?" she asked.

"I'm not really sure," Harry laughed. "He told me it was a surprise. He made me promise not to make plans for tonight, and then, as he ran out the door to work with his mouth wrapped around an apple, demanded I read the classifieds in the Daily Prophet to look for a new apartment. I'd rather they were wrapped around something else, but we all have to make sacrifices." Harry shrugged. "And I forgot to buy the paper, anyway."

"So, you're still going to move, mate?" Ron Weasley said, snatching his copy of the Daily Prophet from the coffee table and tossing it into Harry's lap. Harry nodded. "That sucks. It's been great having you live nearby."

Hermione snorted and shook her head. "You can Apparate with the flick of a wand, Ron. You don't need Harry living in your back pocket."

Harry smirked. "Yeah, just don't drop in unexpectedly, unless you want another eyeful of Draco and I fucking on the snooker table," he stated, flicking through the paper with disinterest. "He just keeps nagging me about wanting to move out of the city and needing a bigger place, for some reason. I love him to bits, but when he gets a nag up, his voice is like nails on a blackboard."

Hermione gazed Harry's shoulder. "Ooo, hang on! This is the Valentine's Day issue. Let's read some of the soppy love dedications." Harry gladly handed her the paper and took a long sip of his coffee. "I don't suppose you thought to put one in for me, R –" she cut herself off with a loud gasp, slapping a hand over her mouth and her eyes flicking in shock to Harry.

"What is it, Hermione?" Ron demanded, ripping the paper from her hands. "BLOODY FUCK! Harry, what the fuck!"

Harry frowned. "What? I didn't bloody put anything in there! I value the paper I wipe my arse on more than that load of rot!" he cried, he caught a glimpse of a large half page dedication surrounded in red hearts and cherubs, immediately catching his own name printed there. "Oh god, he didn't…please let it be from a crazy fan girl, or at the very least, Colin Creevy…" he groaned, gingerly taking the paper to read what his elusive boyfriend had subjected them to now. As if fucking in one of the capsules of the London Eye wasn't enough to satisfy him for one week!

Harry read the advert and immediately felt like someone had grabbed him from behind and yanked him off a very high cliff. His stomach dropped down to his feet, and he paled dramatically. "No… I… I… he… it's… this can't be possible!" he screeched. "TELL ME IT'S NOT POSSIBLE!" Harry grabbed the front of Ron's shirt and started shaking him desperately.

Ron pulled a helpless face, and eased Harry's hands away from his shirt. "I think it is, mate," Ron said feebly. "I didn't think it could _just happen_ with blokes, you know, by mistake, but I think it…" he trailed off, looking nervously at Hermione for help.

"Um," Hermione said, lost for words, which was an uncommon occurrence. "Yes, but I thought it required a potion…"

Harry gaped down at the paper, and the scarlet red words screamed back at him.

_ATTENTION: HARRY POTTER_

_To Harry, my love,_

_GUESS WHAT!_

_I'M PREGNANT! YOU'RE GOING TO BE A DADDY!_

_Happy Valentine's Day, Schnookums!_

_Love, Draco_

"Oh god," Harry whimpered in a tiny voice.

"Why would he call you 'Schnookums'?" Hermione finally asked, unable to contain her snort of laughter. "Is there something you aren't telling us?"

"NO!" Harry cried in exasperation, jumping up and starting to pace in front of the fireplace. "How could this happen! I… we… he… WE ALWAYS USE CONDOMS!"

Hermione made a surprised sound. "After two years? Do you?" she asked.

Harry stopped moving and glared at her. "No! But it sounded good!" he snapped. "What am I going to do? How… how did this happen?"

"I think we all know how it happened," Ron scoffed. "And I'll thank you not to elaborate."

"I'm almost certain it takes both wizards in a homosexual relationship to drink the fertility potion," Hermione stated, frowning in thought. "Plus, I'm pretty sure I read somewhere that, well, uh, it usually requires a _lot_ of sexual intercourse for the potion to react to the hormones…" she trailed off at the pained look Harry gave her.

"Bloody hell, Hermione," Ron snorted. "Harry and Draco do nothing _but_ fuck. If they somehow managed to ingest this potion, any condom would probably disintegrate from the force of their hormone-induced sperm! Didn't you hear him? The London Eye, for fuck's sake!"

Harry managed a sheepish look before he caught a glance at the paper again and whimpered, chewing frantically on his thumb nail. He swiped his hands through his hair and then gasped. "You know, he was sick the other morning! Puked all over the kitchen floor while I was making tea. He told me it was food poisoning!"

"It _was_ food poisoning," Hermione pointed out. "You were both sick if I remember rightly. He told me the whole story with all the gory details."

"But, I wasn't as sick as him, see, and I got better with the potions! He didn't! It must've been morning sickness!" Harry insisted.

"It's a bit weird that he put it in the paper," Ron commented. "He must've been shit scared to tell you to your face."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Draco Malfoy doesn't get _scared_. I can't see him being frightened to tell Harry something like this. It's more likely he wanted to cause an impact. You know what he's like. He turned up to our Hogwarts graduation in leather pants with the arse cheeks cut out. He became a _hairdresser_ just to rebel against his parents. If Draco wants to make a splash, you can bet it will cause a tidal wave."

Harry smirked at his boyfriend's nerve. "I swear Snape has never been the same since that day," he snorted. "And Draco enjoys his career, so it wasn't just to spite the Malfoys. He fixed _your_ hair, remember?"

Hermione ran a hand down her straight, sleek hair. "Irrelevant. The point _is_, Harry, that you've knocked your boyfriend up and he wanted to give you the news the best way he knows how – with as much flare and commotion as he can possibly create."

Harry picked up the paper gingerly and gazed down at the advert screaming up at him. The enormity of the situation came crashing down on him. "Oh my bloody fuck, I'm going to be a father," he gasped before he pitched backwards in a dead faint.

Draco swiped the back of his hand across his forehead and sighed. It had been a long and hectic day at work, and he just wanted to go home, have a long bath and then shag Harry into the mattress. Right after he gave Harry his engagement ring. Harry better not have forgotten it was Draco's turn on top. He stretched, and cracked the weary bones in his back.

"You think your back is sore now, sweetness, wait for a few months down the track," Draco's receptionist, Violet (with hair to match her name), stated with a grin. Draco owned his own salon, in the exclusive part of Diagon Alley, called The Silver Scissors. He had a large team of stylists, and an elite clientele. He didn't actually need to work himself, but he enjoyed it and liked to be kept busy when Harry's arse wasn't at his disposal.

Draco frowned at her. "Yeah…" he agreed, but didn't really have a clue what she was on about. However, they were coming into summer, and it was always a busy season, so sure, if she thought he would have a sore back in a few months, she was probably right. Nothing a potion couldn't fix though.

"How did Harry take it?" Violet asked with a grin.

"Um, I'm not sure if he's read the advert yet," Draco said, feeling the first pangs of nervousness in his gut.

"Oh, I bet he'll be over the moon! Lot's of planning ahead of you. Your life will change like you wouldn't believe!" Violet said knowingly. "You'll need to move out of that shoebox you call home."

"Oh, we're already looking for a new apartment," Draco told her.

"Apartment?" Violent said in surprise. "Wouldn't a house with a yard be more appropriate?"

Draco snorted. "I refuse to mow lawns," he intoned, shoving his scissors and other implements into his case and snapping it shut. He suspected Violet would have shot him a smartarse remark if the phone hadn't rang, forcing her to answer it and toss him a smirk.

"It's for you, m'dear," Violet said, bringing the cordless phone over to Draco. "And I'm done for the day. Make sure you rest that sexy butt of yours. I refuse to have you fainting on the job."

"Malfoys do not _faint_," Draco scoffed, snatching the phone from her as she kissed both his cheeks and pinched his arse.

"Mwah, darling," Violet purred. "Ooo, if you weren't gay!" She waved and flitted out of the shop. Draco shook his head and rolled his eyes as he put the phone to his ear.

"Hello?"

"OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD!" Pansy Parkinson, Draco's close friend, squealed down the phone. Draco sneered, holding the phone away from his ear. "Oh, this is so exciting! Why didn't you tell me, you tease! I would've kept your secret!" Draco rolled his eyes. _Yeah, right,_ he thought. _And I'm Batman in my spare time. Harry really gets off on the cod piece. _He snorted at the thought. "How did Harry take it? Is he just completely over the moon? He seems like the sort who would go for this sort of thing! Oh, I can't believe it! Do you know what you're having, because I really can't see you doing pink, darling! Funny, I was so surprised you would risk your figure like this! I was sure you would've made Harry do the deed. He has –"

"Shut up, Pans, you are giving my headache a headache," Draco moaned. "I have no idea half of what you just said. I'm buggered, so can we catch up tomorrow or something? I just want to go home."

Pansy tutted in concern, cooing down the phone at Draco. "Oh, of _course_, precious," she said in a sickeningly sweet tone. "You simply _must_ get plenty of rest. Spend as much time off your feet as possible. Fluid retention is absolutely abhorrent and you don't want to be a victim of that! I'll have my assistant send you over a draught for the vomiting, darling. She swears by it! Ta-ta, love!" She made kissy noises down the phone and hung up.

Draco gaped at phone receiver. "What the bloody fuck!" he cried.

Harry bounded out to the foyer to greet Draco when he heard him Floo home a short while later. Draco's face broke into a wide grin when he saw Harry was in his usual 'I've had a shit of a day and I couldn't be arsed' attire of a pair of tight black briefs and not much else. _The less to rip off, the better,_ Draco thought.

Harry wrapped his arms around Draco, giving him a lingering kiss, and pushing his groin suggestively into Draco's.

Draco pulled back abruptly. "What happened to your head!" he demanded, noticing a bruise on Harry's temple. He turned Harry's head to the side to study the blemish.

Harry gave him a sheepish look. "I, uh, ran into a door…" he said evasively.

"I'm not even going to ask," Draco laughed. "The last time you told me that, you had actually been piss drunk and gotten acquainted with a telegraph pole."

"I still have that lump behind my ear, you know?" Harry stated, almost proudly. "That was my best hangover ever."

Draco shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Yes, I remember the state of the toilet the following morning. Merlin, I've had a _rotten_ day!" he moaned.

"I cooked you dinner," Harry told him. "Your favourite."

Draco made an impressed noise. "You cooked me Lobster Ravioli?" he asked incredulously.

"Uh, ok, maybe your second favourite then," Harry said sheepishly, giving his boyfriend a funny look that indicated his hope that Draco would at least guess on the second attempt.

"Steak Pie," Draco said with a grin and Harry nodded with a small sigh of relief. Draco dumped his bag on the floor of the foyer, not particularly caring that it would be Harry who would likely pick up after him and stalked through to their kitchen. "Smells gorgeous. I'm starving!"

"Are you?" Harry asked eagerly. "That's good, because I was worried you wouldn't be feeling well or something."

Draco pulled a face. Why the hell wouldn't he be feeling well? Pansy mentioned puking as well… must be some bug going around or something. "You know I've never been very susceptible to illnesses."

"Illnesses? That's a strange thing to call it!" Harry laughed and watched as Draco stretched and yawned, exposing his pale stomach when his shirt rode up. "Oh, you're going to look so cute with a little round belly!" He rubbed Draco's stomach lovingly and was promptly pushed away.

Draco shot him a horrified look. "BELLY! Are you implying I'm going to get _fat_! How dare you!"

Harry smirked. "Well, you are going to put on _some_ weight, darling. It's inevitable considering all the changes."

"All the changes! I don't know about you, but just because we might make things official, doesn't mean I'm going to turn into a lazy fat slob! I'm certainly not going to turn into a _housewife_!" Draco screeched, shuddering at the thought of himself dressed in a plaid moo-moo with a frilly apron, a wooden spoon in one hand and Harry's lunchbox in another.

"Sheesh, you're in a mood. Hermione warmed me about mood swings," Harry muttered, scowling at Draco.

"I'm not the one accusing my boyfriend of needing a life membership to Weight Watchers!" Draco spat. "Of course I'm going to be in a mood, you wank! Oh Merlin, I don't know whether to slap you or leave you! _Weight_! On a Malfoy!" he scoffed in disgust. "I need a drink. I hope we have some of that 1993 Australian Red left."

"What!" Harry shrieked. "You can't drink that!" Draco ignored him, bending over to rifle in their wine cabinet. "DRACO!"

Draco stood up with the prized bottle in his hand. "What? Why have you got your cute little arse in a tizzy? You didn't even like it! Why would you give a shit if I finished it?"

Harry swooped on Draco and grabbed hold of the bottle, trying to wrestle it out of Draco's firm grip. "You shouldn't be drinking!"

They played tug-of-war with bottle for a few moments. "Bloody hell!" Draco snapped as the bottle flew from their grips and went smashing to the floor. "A simple 'no' to my proposal would have sufficed, you arsehole! _You_ can clean up this shit!" He pointed angrily at the pool of red wine and glass at their feet before storming down the hall to their bedroom.

"He completely jumped down my throat!" Harry whispered anxiously down the phone. "There was no _swing_ in this fucking mood! He came home bitchy!"

"Did he mention the baby?" Hermione asked.

"No, not at all! Unless you count him having a hissy fit over me suggesting weight gain as 'mentioning the baby'," Harry complained.

"Perhaps you should bring it up, then?" Hermione suggested.

"I'm scared to breathe, let alone mention his pregnancy!" Harry cried. "I thought his glare was going to burn holes in my head! Why wouldn't he know not to drink if he was knocked up?"

"I don't know, Harry," Hermione sighed. "I don't know how to handle a pregnant bloke, let alone a pregnant Draco Malfoy. I take my hat off to you, hon. My suggestion would be to sit down, shut up, and wait for him to broach the subject, otherwise you may be risking life and limb."

"Gee, thanks so much. I feel smashing now," Harry sniped. "Fuck, what do I do now! I'm sitting here in my undies and busting for a piss, but I'm bloody petrified of stepping into that end of the house! I may end up with horns and no dick!"

"How long has he been in your room?"

"Over an hour now…" Harry muttered. "I keep hearing the odd bang, so I know he's still alive. Probably sticking pins into a mini replica of me, or having target practice with a picture of me. Do you think he blames me for knocking him up?"

"He would have had to have planned it, Harry. Guys can't accidentally fall pregnant, you lucky shits. That ad in the paper indicated to me that he was happy about it. He's just moody. Go and give him a massage or run him a bath," Hermione suggested.

"He may drown me," Harry stated. "You are forewarned. This could be my last conversation with you."

Hermione sniggered. "I will be the first to sob at your grave."

"Yeah, while my beloved dances on it," Harry mumbled, blowing his fringe from his eyes.

Harry balanced a tray containing Draco's dinner in his arms as he tentatively pushed their bedroom door open. Draco was lying on his side on the bed, with his hand down the front of his pants. He was having a half-hearted wank as he watched a soap opera on the television that was mounted on the wall.

"I brought your dinner," Harry said feebly, wishing he had full body armour when Draco turned to look at him. He nearly choked when Draco smiled at him.

"Thanks, love," Draco replied. "Maybe you would like to come help me with this first?" He pulled the waist band of his trousers down just far enough to give Harry a glimpse at the head of his hard dick.

Harry cleared his throat and couldn't help smiling back at his boyfriend. _This_ was the Draco he preferred. He was obviously forgiven for the wine debacle. First thing in the morning, though, he was shipping the rest of their alcohol over to Ron and Hermione's so Draco wouldn't feel too bad about not being able to drink.

_Oh my god, I'm going to be a fucking father!_ Harry's mind suddenly screeched rudely as he watched Draco snuggle back amongst the covers and kick his trousers off, leaving him naked and waiting.

Harry gripped onto the tray so he wouldn't drop it. _You can't fuck him while he has your baby in his gut!_ Harry's conscience warned. "Maybe you should eat first?" he suggested shakily, his body betraying his words. He wanted nothing more than to shag Draco as passionately and as noisily as possible _and_ immediately. "It might get cold."

"I'll eat soon," Draco told him, gazing hungrily at him. "Come here, love." Harry placed the tray on their chest of drawers and padded over to the bed. He sat down on the edge, taking one of Draco's feet into his lap. He started giving Draco a foot rub and Draco's eyes slid closed as he moaned in pleasure at the feeling.

"Nice?" Harry asked with a grin.

"Nice doesn't even scrape the surface, babe," Draco grunted. "That's fucking heaven! Don't stop."

"How about a hot bath? I could run you one? I'm sure it will help," Harry murmured.

_Help what?_ Draco thought distractedly. "Hmmm? Only if you come with me…" he sighed. "No, on second thoughts, I'd rather stay here. You fingers are perfect. I need this after the day I've had."

"Tired, love?" Harry asked in amusement. It didn't take a genius to realise Draco was exhausted. Pregnancy was going to be nothing but an effort for his boyfriend, Harry suspected. Once again, Harry's stomach flip-flopped at the thought of a baby coming into their lives and he stiffened.

"Very, but I think we should celebrate the best way we know how," Draco purred, once again rubbing his groin.

Harry bit his lip. "Your dinner is going cold…"

Draco sat up and gazed evenly at him. "You really are opposed to this, aren't you?" he intoned. "If I had known you had no inkling of taking the next step with me, I wouldn't have gone to so much fucking trouble!" Harry groaned inwardly. What the hell had he said wrong now! Is that what the next nine months were going to be like? But Draco wasn't done. "Why don't you just take out a fork and rip my bloody heart out and play football with it! Romance is lost on you, Potter!" He jumped up and stalked over to their chest of drawers, snatching up his copy of the dreaded Daily Prophet. "Did you even read this, or did your _mates_ relay all the gory details!"

"I don't get why you had to do it in a newspaper ad!" Harry finally snapped, shoving the dinner tray onto the dresser with a loud clatter.

"I was trying to _surprise_ you and be _romantic_ because _I love you_!" Draco sneered. "Obviously all of my efforts were lost on you, you ungrateful snot!" He stalked into their bathroom and slammed the door.

"It would've been nice to find out before the rest of the fucking world, Draco!" Harry argued through the door. When he got no further answer he slumped down on the bed, kicking the bed post in the process out of frustration.

How the hell were they going to be parents? They had done nothing but argue since Harry had found out! How was any of this his fault! He'd done nothing wrong! He'd –

"OH BLOODY FUCK!" came an outrageous squawk from the bathroom. "FUCKING BLOODY SHIT! HOW THE HELL!"

Harry jumped up and raced to the bathroom. He slammed the door open worriedly. He found Draco sitting on the toilet with his pants down around his ankles staring wide-eyed down at the paper in his hands. "Draco?" Harry asked tentatively.

"YOU THOUGHT I WAS BLOODY _BREEDING_!" Draco squeaked. "ME? KNOCKED UP!" He started laughing hysterically "This paper goes to the _whole Wizarding World_!" he screeched. "SCHNOOKUMS!"

"You aren't!" Harry cried. "What the hell! Why put the ad in the paper!"

"THIS ISN'T MY AD!" Draco screamed. "Oh bloody Merlin, I think I'm going faint." He grabbed his hand in both hands, the paper falling to the floor.

"You mean, we're not having a baby?" Harry asked in a small voice, frowning as he glanced down at the paper, which had landed with the large and obnoxious ad glaring up at them. Draco shook his head frantically, not removing his face from his hands. "Oh."

Harry scratched the back of his neck. This was a good thing, right? Draco didn't have a bun in the oven, and there would be no tiny person arriving in nine months. "Everyone's going to think I'm fucking knocked up," Draco groaned, still failing to look up. "What a bloody cock up! I'm going to sue them! How dare they slander my reputation with such a disastrous balls up! Do you realise what this could do to my business! _Me_! The pregnant one! I would _never_ ruin my gorgeous body in such a way!"

Harry watched Draco in disbelief. "Have you finished?" he asked dryly.

"I haven't even _started_!" Draco snarled. "This is appalling! I –" He was cut off when Harry spun on his heel and stormed out of the bathroom, banging the door closed behind him.

Harry was sitting on their front steps, staring blankly ahead of him. His own copy of the paper was lying crumpled beside him. Draco crouched down behind him and kissed him softly on the nape of his neck.

"You wanted me to be pregnant," Draco stated quietly, sitting down behind Harry with his legs on either side of Harry's hips. He hugged Harry around his stomach and rested his chin on Harry's shoulder.

"No, I didn't," Harry murmured in confusion. "I don't think…" He sighed, looking up at the sky. It was cold as they were nearing winter's closure, but the sky was clear and crisp. "All right, I guess the idea was growing on me."

"I wouldn't have ever told you something like this in a newspaper, Harry," Draco pointed out. "You knew that, didn't you? Not to mention the fact that I would never have tricked you into taking a fertility potion. I'm a selfish, arrogant arsehole a majority of the time, but I wouldn't do something like this to you… To someone else maybe…"

Harry snorted, shaking his head. "I didn't have much room to believe anything else, Draco. You have to admit this was something you are capable of." He pointed to the ad briefly and then looked away from it.

"I'm capable of a lot of things," Draco reasoned. "I could wear a dress and flash my arse at Snape, but I refrain."

"You've already flashed your arse at Snape," Harry scoffed. "What's your point?"

"I've never worn a dress," Draco pointed out. Harry remained silent and only reached down to closed the paper and fold it. "I'm sorry I was such a bastard," Draco said. "It was a shock. You know I don't handle shocks very well."

"Do you think it was a walk in the park for me?" Harry bit back, trying to control his temper. Why did Draco always have to be so selfish? He'd not once mentioned Harry in his tirade earlier.

"No," Draco said quietly.

"What do you think people would be thinking of _me_ right now?" Harry continued. "That I am so irrational that you need to break this type of news to me in an advert? It may have been a mess up, Draco, but there are repercussions for both of us. Repercussions that wouldn't have been an issue if this ad were true. Why must they be if it's not? Who gives a fuck what anyone thinks?"

Draco remained quite for a few long moments. He softly stroked Harry's stomach. He could hear and feel Harry breathing deeply, indicating Harry was still upset. "Do you know what was to be in my actual advert, Harry?"

Harry sighed. "How could I, Draco?"

"I could show you?" Draco offered.

"Yeah sure," Harry said, waving his hand dismissively. He felt Draco move from behind him and was set to wait for Draco to fetch the proof of his actual ad from inside or something. Instead, Draco moved in front of him a few steps down.

"I actually used a lot more words than this, but, well…" Draco dropped to his knee and took Harry's hand. "Marry me, Harry. I love you."

"You… you _proposed_ to me in the paper?" Harry whispered. "For the _whole wizarding world_ to see?" Draco just gazed intensely at him with his bright grey eyes. "I…"

"Are you disappointed?" Draco murmured hesitantly. "It's not a baby, but –"

"It's better," Harry cut in. "Draco, of course I'll marry you!"

"You will?" Draco asked, breathing a sigh of relief. "I thought I'd completely fucked it up."

"I wouldn't have cared, love," Harry laughed.

"Are you going to ask me to get pregnant now?" Draco muttered feebly. "I mean, you know I'd do it if it was _really_ important to you, but… well…"

"No you wouldn't. Don't lie," Harry scoffed.

"All right, I wouldn't," Draco admitted. "I would be a terrible pregnant person. I like to be able to see my dick."

Harry laughed. "We can't risk that gorgeous body, can we?" he teased.

"It really would be a tragedy," Draco said with a smirk. "I'm gorgeous, you know? My arse is hot, too."

"I know," Harry agreed, smiling down at him. "Is this your way of saying _I_ would be the one to carry our offspring?"

Draco sniffed and looked pointedly up at the sky. "Nice night for it," he said, changing the subject abruptly.

"Nice night for a thorough fuck too, I say," Harry purred, taking Draco's hand and pulling him up and close to his chest. "I'd take you right here if it wasn't so cold."

"You can take me anywhere you like," Draco murmured, leaning in to claim Harry's lips in a kiss. "We could have fun with this pregnancy thing."

"Draco!" Harry admonished with a laugh.

"I'm telling Weasel we're having triplets," Draco continued. "And I'm telling him you knocked me up on _his_ kitchen table."

Harry snorted and shook his head. "I don't know about his kitchen table, but how about we get our arses onto the nearest warm horizontal surface we encounter?" Draco's eyes lit up and a smirk spread across his lips. He opened his mouth to say something. "_Not_ the snooker table," Harry laughed.

"I would settle for the bed," Draco said with a deep, dramatic sigh as if it was going to take extensive effort. "On one proviso."

"Name it," Harry said confidently.

"You really _do_ fuck me on Weasel's kitchen table on our next visit," Draco bargained.

Harry laughed, shaking his head. "Only you, love," he said fondly.

"Exactly," Draco replied and then kissed Harry deeply before grabbing his hand and pulling him eagerly into the house, destined for their bedroom.

_- fin -_


End file.
